Get up, Charles Eugene." The horse lowered his head and sniffed at the white expanse in front of him, then adventured upon it without more ado.
The ruts of the winter road were gone, the little firs which had marked it at intervals were nearly all fallen and lying in the half-thawed snow; as they passed the island the ice cracked twice without breaking.

Charles Eugene trotted smartly toward the house of Charles Lindsay on the other bank.

But when the sleigh reached midstream, below the great fall, the horse had perforce to slacken pace by reason of the water which had overflowed the ice and wetted the snow.

Very slowly they approached the shore; there remained only some thirty feet to be crossed when the ice began to go up and down under the horse's hoofs.
Old Chapdelaine, fully awake now, was on his feet; his eyes beneath the fur cap shone with courage and quick resolve.
"Go on, Charles Eugene! Go on there!" he roared in his big voice.
The wise beast dug his calked shoes through the deep slush and sprang for the bank, throwing himself into the collar at every leap.

Just as they reached land a cake of ice tilted beneath their weight and sank, leaving a space of open water.
Samuel Chapdelaine turned about.